RayEmma Oneshots

Beautiful

RayEmma Week 2022—Day 2: Photograph

Emma found herself standing before the bedroom mirror, an uneasy frown on her face. She never really cared about her appearance, but as of late something had been bothering her. Yesterday, she'd tried to cut her hair—she was overdue for a haircut, and long, straggly hair wasn't exactly the most useful hair to have when travelling in the woods. But lifting a chunk of hair on the left side of her head to cut, she stopped when she saw the area where her ear was missing, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She knew she would have to cut it shorter eventually—she liked her hair short, whereas now its length was halfway between her chin and her shoulders—but knowing that her missing ear would be visible... she couldn't cut it. It struck her as strange. She'd never cared about stuff like this. Was she upset because it didn't look normal? But several other people in the shelter were missing body parts, and no one judged or gave anyone a hard time because of that. Maybe she felt like others seeing her disability would make them judge her, out of fear that they wouldn't see her as a strong leader anymore?

Whatever it was, she didn't like it. Now, standing before the same mirror as the day before, she felt those anxieties resurface again. Brushing back the strands of hair that covered the left side of her head, she glanced at the unappealing hole on the side of her head, and sighed, closing her eyes.

"You all right?" She heard from behind her, and her head snapped toward the voice, startled. She relaxed when she saw it was just Ray. "Yeah, I'm fine!" Emma replied, quickly pulling up her trademark bright smile. Ray just scoffed and bonked her head. "Bullshit. I saw your expression in the mirror, you just looked depressed." His hand still resting on her head, he began softly petting her hair instead, contrasting his earlier tone. "Is it something about your ear?" He asked, softly.

Emma felt tears starting to well up in her eyes. She couldn't tell why. Maybe it was the way Ray would bluntly call her out on her lies, and yet offer her the gentlest of comfort. She blinked away the tears, her smile beginning to fall. "Yeah... just thinking about... it. Hearing is more difficult now, but I'm getting used to it, I think. I can deal with that. But it just looks..."

Ray tilted his head as she trailed off. "Looks what?"

"...ugly, I guess. I don't know. I don't know what I'm feeling, to be honest," Emma said, downcast.

Ray was quiet for a little bit. "Most people won't see it, even if you cut your hair."

"I know."

"You could keep the hair on your left side grown out but cut the rest shorter-"

"I know."

Ray wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders. "...you're still pretty. And the most beautiful part of you is the part on the inside, anyways," he mumbled, trying to be quiet as if he didn't want her to hear him.

Well, if he didn't want her to hear him then he did a pretty bad job. Emma frowned. "Well, if you're telling the truth, it doesn't change the fact that there's a gross hole in the side of my head-"

"No." Ray firmly stated, taking Emma by surprise.

"'No' what?"

Ray sent a weak glare down at her. "Don't think of yourself like that. It may look gross, but the way you got it was from being a brave, selfless leader. Extremely reckless, yes, but you saved us all that day." He looked away, his hold on her loosening. "It's my fault you lost your ear."

"It's not your fault," Emma responded quietly after a moment.

"If I wasn't so hellbent on killing myself in a fire then you'd have-"

Emma sighed. "There's no use lingering in what ifs and alternate scenarios. Cutting it off was the quickest option in the moment and I didn't have a second to lose." She frowned. "And now I have to deal with it."

A minute went by in silence, until Ray asked, "Would you like me to help with the haircut? I'll keep the left side longer."

Emma begrudgingly complied, and after some time brushing, braiding, and slightly trimming her hair, he was done. It was still noticeably longer than it'd been back at Grace Field, and a bit more wilder, but now it was more neater and less messy than it had been moments ago. Traveling around in dangerous woods definitely left their mark. Additionally, her braid was wound tighter than it had been before, Ray being better at precise details in winding strand-like things like string or hair.

By the end, Emma seemed to have cheered up a bit more, though not fully. "Thanks Ray... it does look nicer now," Emma said, a small smile creeping up her face as she stared at her frivolous curls through the mirror.

SNAP! A brief flash of bright light tore through the room. Emma whipped her head back and saw Ray standing with a camera pointed at her. "Huh? Where'd you get the camera?" She asked with subdued curiosity.

"Me, Sonya 'n Oliver found it in one of the storage rooms, we fixed it up the other day," Ray replied. "They asked me to take photos of things. As memories for a scrapbook we're gonna put together." As the photo started coming out of the camera, he took it and gazed at it intently, waiting for it to show.

Emma made her way over and peeked around his shoulder as the image came into focus: Emma sitting on the stool in the middle of the room, a soft smile like the early rising sun adorning her face. "Oh, it turned out pretty good," Emma said thoughtfully.

Ray continued staring at the photo, and smiled. "Yeah. It's beautiful."

—-

Ray sat down on the grass, looking up at the night sky above him, stars like millions of holes punched through a sheet of black fabric. This field outside the Ratri mansion became his favorite place to return to—it carried a sort of nostalgia, the way the field rolled into hills the exact same way as Grace Field did. Though, not everything was the same as it was then.

Out of his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled up photo—one of the few he had on him that managed to make the leap to the human world with him. That picture of Emma from so long ago. They'd been in the human world for nearly a year now, and still nothing. Still, he wouldn't give up. He'd never give up. Not after she taught him perseverance, among other things.

Sure, her disappearance gives him more and more worry every day, but besides the growing anxiety from the search and the indescribable loneliness from being apart from her, he's been doing a lot better than he's ever done in his life. He got a therapist—one of the ones who are allowed to know where he came from—and is working out some of his trauma. He, Norman, and a few others were starting out a company, and business was going great so far. And he didn't have to live in fear that he could get stabbed or eaten every day, and could watch the younger ones grow up like normal kids (to an extent).

But still. She wasn't there. She couldn't experience their family's growing happiness and comfort, hasn't been able to see how they've grown in the past year.

So he'll keep pushing on, for her and everyone's future. Because he'll love her no matter how long they're separated.

Ray held up the photo, milky starlight framing the edges. A small grin tugging at his lips, he whispered, "I'll find you, Emma.

No matter how long it takes."